Dragon's Touch (Book 1 Linty Dragon Series)

by J. M. Griffin

  “You may as well stop sulking, Linty, this came as a surprise to me as well. All we can do is move forward from here, and make a plan for that,” Cullen remarked.

  “It’s hard to believe he’d be so dishonest. Never would I have looked in his direction for such a thing.”

  “There are all sorts of people in this world, Linty. They’re capable of many things and not all of them are honest or good. I understand you’ve led a somewhat sheltered life, but that’s over, understand? If you wish to protect your dragons from being plucked out from under your nose, then you’d best beware of everyone you come in contact with. By the way, I liked the way you played Bànach. The shrewd old bastard certainly knows you’d cut his throat in a second to protect the dragons. He’s also a man who’ll willingly take chances to attain what he desires. Make no mistake, he’s formidable, as are the others.”

  “Then I guess it’s a good thing you’re on my side, right? You are, aren’t you?”

  His rich laughter bounced off the interior of the car. “Aye, lass, I’m on your side.”

  “Good thing, because I’d hate to have to kill you, too.” All this talk of death made my stomach flip-flop. I’d never hurt a fly in my life and was hard-pressed to think of doing so now. But somewhere in the core of my being, I knew I was capable of aggression when the time arrived to protect what was mine. It was my destiny to protect the dragons and by gosh I would do so at any cost.

  Chapter 18

  Slippery roads, sharp treacherous curves, and wicked winds matched my temperament. The profound changes in my life had caused me to think in much darker terms than I’d ever considered possible. Gone was the woman who adored old tomes, and bringing them back to their original glory. Gone was the woman who believed people were decent. Gone was the woman who had never hurt a fly. I glanced over at the man behind the steering wheel who wanted things of his own and that seemed to include me. Whether or not that was good, I couldn’t tell. All I could do was wait and see, play the game as it came my way, and hope for the best results possible.

  Upon our return to Dragon Hill, Mrs. Douglas bid us goodbye and we found everything quiet and in its place. I drew a breath of relief at not having to report another house break, or to find the police crawling over everything with a magnifying glass. The dragons sat where I’d left them, and the house was in good order.

  Hunger pangs drew me to the kitchen where I rummaged through the larder for a light repast. If Cullen was intent on taking me out for a jaunt, the least he could do was feed me before he dropped me off at home with an excuse of attending to his business.

  Cold roast beef, a bowl of leftover salad, and a glass of raspberry iced tea were my evening menu. Gran had adored this flavor of tea, and while I enjoyed it, it was far from my favorite. I sipped, ate, and endeavored to read the damn book that stopped me dead each time I opened it. Every time I browsed the pages, unaccountable hours passed, and annoying as it seemed, I came away mystified after having spent useless time with it.

  I crunched a cucumber and regarded Drake on his perch. “Have you any idea how hard this is for me?” I asked.

  No answer.

  “It’s pissing me off to think I can’t figure out the language on these pages. Especially since it’s necessary to find some damn key.” I sipped tea and chewed a piece of roast beef as the phone rang.

  “Linty Dragon,” I said and listened to labored breathing.

  “I did not take the dragon,” Daniel exclaimed.

  “How do I know you didn’t?”

  “Believe me, that’s all I ask. By the way, call off Cullen and his cohorts, will you? I fear for my life.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Why?”

  “Come here, we’ll talk,” I demanded.

  “If this is a trap, you’ll have to deal with my father. He’s formidable where family issues are concerned, Linty.”

  “I believe you. Just come here, right now. Come through the woods and into the cottage by way of the side door,” I suggested. “I’ll meet you there.”

  The line went dead, and I hung up. My dinner lay unfinished, my stomach flip-flopped all over the place, and I gently closed the book before I stored it in its hiding place. Was I crazy to ask Daniel to come here, into the heart of dragon land? Maybe, and maybe not. We’d see.

  I locked the house, walked to the cottage, and went inside. I clicked on a small lamp in the back room and waited. About a half hour later, I heard a light tap on the door and opened it to find a haggard-looking, bedraggled Daniel on the doorstep. I ushered him indoors and motioned to the rear room, where curtains were drawn, and shut the door to prevent anyone seeing in. “Sit down, you’re a mess,” I said and watched him as he took a corner chair that faced the door.

  “Lass, I wouldn’t steal from you, not a thing. Especially a dragon. People are killed for taking dragons from Dragon Hill . . .” Daniel’s voice trailed off as he realized what he’d admitted.

  My reaction was swift as my head snapped up. I jumped from the chair and openly gawked at Daniel. “The woman, the bones under the stairs, did she steal a dragon? Is that why she was killed and stuffed in there, never to be found?”

  He gave a slight nod and gazed at the floor.

  “Who killed her?”

  “I can’t say, lass.”

  “Tell me, now,” I yelled. “Just say it, did Gran kill this woman?”

  Again, a slight nod, but this time fear filled his eyes as he stared into mine. I was hot mad, burning with rage as I now realized I belonged to a family of killers. Dad had probably done so in his quest for some knick-knack that a client required, and now I knew Gran had murdered the woman under the stairs . . . and I would kill as well, if necessary. So much for heritage.

  I rubbed the tense muscles in my neck and asked, “Who was she?”

  “Your mother, lass, she was your mother,” he murmured. The pity in his eyes was short lived as I lashed out and slapped him hard. His head bobbed to one side, and an intense red mark appeared on his cheek.

  “You lie,” I yelled in anger and pain.

  He rose, put his hands up as I took a step closer to him and said, “Lass, stop. I know this is a shock for you, but I don’t lie. Your mother was the daughter of what you refer to as a gaunt. She married your father in hopes of inheriting the lot of dragons that would surely be left to your dad when Essie died. I know only the story that has been passed down.”

  “Go ahead, tell me the rest,” I said with a cool, measured tone.

  “The two of them, your parents, met while at university. Sweethearts from the beginning, they married and had you not two years later. Somewhere along the line, your mother tried to steal a dragon and the book that holds the key to free them. Essie caught her trying to leave the estate with both items. A fight ensued, and Essie killed her.” Daniel dropped back into the chair, ran a hand across his forehead, and through his thick mass of hair.

  “Had my mother planned to take me with her?” I asked.

  “Not to my knowledge. You were in Aberdeen with your father when this happened. Your grandmother took care of the body with the help of others. I’m sorry, Linty.”

  “I shouldn’t take your word for this, but somehow the story makes sense, and I’ll accept it as truth. Who helped Gran? You do know I would have killed you if you’d taken my dragon, don’t you?”

  “Aye, lass, I do. I tell you now, I did not steal your dragon, that I had naught to do with it. I don’t know who helped Essie.”

  I measured him for a moment, wondering why he wouldn’t tell me the truth of who assisted Gran, and then gave him a nod and asked, “Then who stole the dragon?”

  He shook his head and insisted, “I don’t know for sure.”

  The story and our conversation passed through my mind over and over as I paced the room. Daniel leaned his head against the chair back and sighed when I came to stand before him once again.

  “The body must have smelled awful when it began to decay. How did everyone
stand the stench of it?” The question, though weird, had popped into my head and out of my mouth before I could stop it.

  “She was put in a vat of something to remove her skin and innards. Then her bones were dressed in clothes, and she and the book were tucked into the recess of the stair.”

  Nodding, as the answer had satisfied the question, I began to feel nauseous and sank into a chair opposite Daniel. That mystery solved, the next two were quick to present themselves. Who had stolen the recently missing dragon, and who had murdered Gran? My stomach heaved, cramped, and I doubled over in pain.

  “Help me to the bathroom, I think I’m about to be sick.” I no sooner said the words than vomit shot from my stomach, into my throat, and spewed out my mouth. Roast beef, salad, and tea made a hasty and disgusting return. I clutched my stomach as Daniel handed me a trash basket. Again and again I threw up until all that was left were dry-heaves. Good Christmas.

  “Come lass, let’s get you into the house,” Daniel offered.

  When the heaving ceased, I drew a deep breath, raised a hand and said, “Not necessary, I’ll manage. Bring me the roll of paper towels and the spray bottle of bleach from the other room so I can clean my mess.”

  A moment later, Daniel returned with what I’d asked for and stood back to watch as I cleared remnants of dinner from the floor. I took basket and all with me when I walked toward the door. I turned and said, “Stay here for the night, I’ll deal with Cullen should he come by. Don’t worry, you’re safe.”

  He leaned against the door jamb and said, “He and his merry crew are a bunch of powerful thugs. You do know who you’re dealing with, don’t you, lass?”

  I shrugged. “My choices are nil.”

  “Be sure you make the right ones. Vaughn isn’t to be trusted.”

  “I never said he was, but then, who is in this affair? Everyone wants something, and it’s all centered around the dragons. My job is to prevent my dragons from falling into those desperate hands.” I left him in the doorway and slowly walked back to the house and into the kitchen.

  Leftover food sat in the plate on the desk where I’d left it. I dumped it, along with the offensive bucket, into the trash bin next to the garage, and then poured the glass of tea down the sink drain. I’d had enough excitement for the day and climbed the stairs to my bedroom after checking the alarms were set. Hopefully, Daniel wouldn’t try to leave before I awoke in the morning. If so, the police would descend upon Dragon Hill after the alarm went off at the Constabulary.

  Dressed in pajamas with my hair tied back from my face after a quick shower, I dialed my father’s phone number and listened to his voice mail state his inability to take the call. Yeah, hadn’t that been the message I’d gotten from him all my life? I gave a snort, hung up, and tossed the cell phone onto the bed in disgust. Slumped against a mound of soft pillows, I thought over the day’s happenings.

  With a start and jangle of nerves, I awoke when the phone played the first bar of Bad to the Bone over and over. Sleepily, I stared at the caller’s number.

  “It’s late, this better be good,” I griped.

  “Charming as usual,” Cullen remarked.

  “Good Christmas, it’s three in the morning. What do you want?”

  “Have you heard from Daniel?”

  “He called earlier to tell me your buddies were after him. Is that true?” I answered while my gut clenched in knots.

  “What else did he say?”

  Annoyed that he wouldn’t acknowledge the truth, I said, “Just that he didn’t take the dragon, why?”

  “And, of course, you believe him?” Cullen replied in a snarky tone.

  I heaved a sigh. “I didn’t say that. I told him to stop running and to tell your associates what they wanted to know and hung up before he could explain. He was scared and he sounded a bit breathless, as though he’d been on the run. Were they going to kill him, Cullen?”

  “They wanted to talk, that’s all,” he said smoothly.

  I pictured Red Riding Hood’s grinning wolf. Game player.

  “Have you studied the book?” Cullen asked.

  “The book, the book, is that all people can talk about? For heaven’s sake, do you think I don’t know how important the damn book is?” I hung up, lowered the phone’s ringer volume and sulked while underneath the covers. Would there be no more sleep tonight?

  The blankets hit the floor when I flung them aside. Donning slippers and a robe, I set off down the rear stairs and made a note to ask Mrs. Douglas about the roast beef when I reached the kitchen. While the kettle boiled, I opened a pack of cookies and took several to have with tea. My stomach was no longer queasy, my knotted gut had relaxed after I’d hung up with Cullen, and I was hungry.

  Again, I took the food into the room hosting the dragons, and named it the dragons’ lair. The creatures filled cabinets and glass cases to the brink, and I always thought of them as residing there. Why not call it a lair? I chortled, shook my head at my own silliness and pulled the all-too-important book from its hiding place.

  The tea cooled while I poured over foreign words splayed across the gilded pages. The cookies were long gone, and the sun shone brightly, when I came round to the fact that I’d lost a few hours. Again. I shook off the mystified feelings that hung over me, and sensed a renewal of sorts within my being. What that meant was anyone’s guess, let alone mine.

  A knock on the door, combined with pots and pans rattling in the kitchen meant Mrs. Douglas was here, that she had disarmed the alarm and was cooking, and that a guest had arrived. I glanced at the clock, saw it was seven in the morning and yelled to Mrs. Douglas to please answer the door. Up the staircase and down the hall I ran, to dress and greet my company.

  While I combed tangles from my hair, I heard my phone buzz a few times. A text message from my father said he’d be in Mevie and at Dragon Hill later in the day, and that we would have a serious talk. I hadn’t left Dad a message the night before, and now wondered what his new tact would consist of for convincing me to rid myself of the dragons.

  Any way I looked at it, there’d be a chance to question him about my mother. Surely he’d figured out that Gran had killed her and stuffed her bones beneath the stair. Dad’s noncommittal answers to my questions over my mother had always led me to believe he was too saddened by her death to talk about her. I’d never pressed him hard for answers, but that wouldn’t be the case this time. Had he been one of the people who’d assisted Gran in destroying the evidence and burying the bones under the stair? I shivered at the thought and then realized Daniel had said I was with my father in Aberdeen when my mother was killed.

  I skipped down the front staircase, found Samuel Smythe eyeing the dragons, and greeted him with a wide smile.

  “Good morning, this is an unexpected visit.”

  He grinned and said, “I thought I’d stop by, rather than speak with you by phone.”

  “Oh? What’s on your mind?” I asked, poured coffee into two earthenware mugs and offered Smythe a warm scone. I sniffed the coffee and bit into a fresh scone that Mrs. Douglas had set up for us. Yum.

  He drank the coffee and nibbled the scone before he asked, “I understand you’ve lost a dragon?”

  I placed the half-eaten scone aside and sipped coffee while I thought of a good answer. I’d formed a denial of sorts when Cullen walked in. Good Lord, just what I needed. Neither man cared much for the other, both had their own secrets, and I’d hidden Daniel in the cottage. Good grief, what next?

  The three of us lounged in the living room opposite the dragons’ lair, and I poured coffee for Cullen while he selected a scone and bit into it. “You didn’t make these, did you?”

  I chuckled. “Hardly. Mrs. Douglas does the good cooking around here.”

  He slathered butter and blackberry jam on the remainder of his scone and sat back, happily indulging in the delicious fare.

  With a look at each of them, I asked, “What brings you both by today?”

  His fingers sticky
with jam, Cullen wiped them clean and said, “You first, Samuel.”

  “I was asking Linty if she’d lost a dragon?”

  A spark of interest entered Cullen’s blue eyes as he answered, “She had misplaced one, yes. Lost it, no. I’ve come to tell her the dragon is on its way back to her as we speak.”

  “How was it misplaced?”

  Before Cullen could answer, I remarked, “It’s not important. What is of importance to me is that I’ve recently become aware that the majority of your clients are gaunts, uh, those collectors who desire my dragons. Is that not true?”

  His dark eyes cooled as he stared at me. Smythe studiously dusted off his crumb free slacks and said, “If you are asking who my client list is, I’m afraid that’s private, Linty.”

  “Not so private, everyone in the village is aware of who they are,” I insisted with what I hoped was a sweet smile. “Let’s not play games, shall we? If you represent them, you can’t represent me. Gran might have been fine with your arrangement, but I’m not.”

  “You aren’t planning to fire me, are you?”

  “I am.”

  He blustered a bit, but unlike Uncle Charles, Samuel couldn’t quite pull it off, and it was all I could do to hide my smirk.

  “I’ve been the solicitor for this family for years. You can’t fire me.”

  I tipped my head slightly and filled my cup again. His features flushed, I stared at him over the cup rim as I took a sip. I set it down and said evenly, “Let me be perfectly clear, I can and will. Maybe my grandmother thought it best to keep her enemies closer than her friends, but I don’t share that viewpoint. Consider yourself fired.”

  Anger flashed in his eyes, while Cullen watched in silence. I rose from my seat, walked to the fireplace and turned to face Smythe while I held my ground and awaited his next move.

  Smythe stepped close and whispered, “This isn’t over, you need me, and if you don’t know that by now, it will soon become apparent.” Smythe turned and strode from the house, his movements stiff with anger. The door had slammed behind him, and I breathed a sigh of relief that he was gone.